


You Did This to Yourself, Sir.

by Blindpulse



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5237390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blindpulse/pseuds/Blindpulse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title is an edited prompt from a list that can be found here: http://writelively.tumblr.com/post/127774021571/40-more-writing-prompts</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Did This to Yourself, Sir.

It was dark over Sanctuary Hills.

Over the quiet hum of a generator that assisted in lighting his path toward the workshop, Nick could hear a muffled debate taking place, dotted with raucous laughter.  
Wasn't often that he came across such a sound without stepping into a bar, he mused, curiously heading toward the source of the noise.

As harsh as it was, echoing through the empty road, it wasn't at all unwelcome. To Nick, laughter meant comfort; a little thing so many in the wasteland by default went without. It meant progress, that the newly-appointed Minuteman general was actually starting to become the paragon everyone had been hoping for in his mind.

That was until he turned the corner, finding the vault dweller sitting cross-legged on the ground surrounded by several of the new pals they'd picked up in the short time he'd known her. She held up scraped, bloodied palms, wincing both as Codsworth sprayed the wounds and Piper roughly stuck an adhesive strip to her temple with a wry grin. 

Nick's exasperation and his preparation to display it to the group was cut off by his own name, and with a blink, he turned to find the Gunner suddenly at his side, gingerly waving a bottle of whiskey about as if to present the scene to him. 

"So you'll never guess what Daisy over here did," MacReady began, taking a moment to spare a look similar to Piper's at the woman on the ground. In return, she promptly flipped him off.

"This, this genuine, utter fool of a woman-"

 

"Don't you dare bring Nick into this," She warned, "I need at least one of you on my side."

He suppressed a crooked smile at that, despite the concern he felt at the condition of her hands and the all-round confusion over the whole situation.

"Can someone just tell me what the hell happened for you all the be standing around guffawing like a pack of teenagers?" He sighed, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. 

"Blue here had a bit of a fall," Piper informed him, earning a failed attempt from the other woman to smear blood over her jacket sleeve, "But someone's just a little bit too proud to admit that she screwed up."

With everyone having met the vault dweller at different times, none of them could agree on a universal nickname to call her by. Even Garvey, who had known her the longest by far went out of his way to avoid using any address for her (it had become a running gag, watching him try to get her attention without it) and her other trusty mechanical companion simply using 'Mum' didn't help. 

The one thing they had agreed on, however, was that whoever named the woman 'Margaret' must have been thinking on the spot. She wasn't a Margaret, no way, and so they all used the variations that fit them. Nick himself preferred Maggie, and the way she responded when he spoke the name suggested she might as well.

"I did not!" She argued, furrowing her brow and tightening her lips like a stubborn kid, and it seemed to Nick that this refusal to agree with the others was what had brought out the laughter. The combined stench of various spirits was probably a contributing factor, since he just seemed to find himself exasperated. 

"I was there! I saw you!" MacReady insisted with a breath of laughter, "You went down like a sack of shit, and it was great.

"I'm afraid you did this to yourself, mum." Codsworth uttered, snipping through the bandage he had wound around her hand once it had been sufficiently dressed. A defeated look developed on Maggie's face at the word of her butler, and she rose to a stand, plucking Piper's unlit cigarette from between the woman's lips and sliding it between her own.

Perhaps he moved too quickly to light it for her, to enter the space that the group had created. He'd usually been on the outside looking in, so the idea of being in this crowd appealed to him. Save for that meat head Paladin _Dense_ , they were a friendly little community, and they welcomed him, especially Maggie. Maybe that was why he broke into her little personal bubble like that; she let him get as close as he wanted, always wanted him around. Who wouldn't take the opportunity?

As if completing his thought, she turned to rest her shoulder against his upper arm, and Piper withdrew another cigarette, leaning over his other shoulder to shoot him a playfully expectant look. No one had a problem with him joining in. Not at all. Once she was satisfied with a light, she hopped away to fix herself another drink. If one were to consider a drink to be a whole bottle, at least. 

MacReady had one as well, he recalled, and a burp from a surprisingly quiet Hancock (he'd never found himself more grateful for someone being under the influence) signified more. Where had all of it come from?

Nick inclined his head to look down at the woman beside him, and raised an eyebrow.

"You wanna let me in on what the hell is going on around here?" 

Maggie responded with huff, hugging her waist with her free hand. He felt her knuckles against his side, and quickly shuffled over a few inches to create at least a little distance. 

"We found a bunch of food and drink around that airplane crash. The one West of here. Went through a few competing super mutants to get to it." 

"Sure," Nick acknowledged with a nod, "And something tells me you didn't exactly get scraped by a mutant, as rough as that skin of theirs is. Like damned sandpaper. They should start putting over surfaces they don't want small children touching."

Maggie chuckled at that comment. She'd told him a week earlier that she enjoyed his monologues; now he made sure to be around whenever he had something on his mind. 

"If that had happened, I wouldn't have these freaks all standing around and laughing at me." 

Hancock's voice chiming: "Come on, Peggy, tell the story like how MacReady told it." broke through their budding conversation, and MacReady saw his chance to jump back in. 

"So we take care of the mutants, okay, not a scratch on either of us, and we start picking through the debris for any leftover goodies," The man started, holding everyone's attention with equally timed eye-contact. If there was one thing the kid had it was charisma, Nick decided, watching the small hand gestures MacReady had begun to make to place emphasis on his words. 

"We board what's left of the carriage, and Daisy here spots a hole in the floor, about as-how big would you say, Daisy? About as wide as a fridge? And she _tells_ me, 'Watch your step', so she knows the thing is there, right? Anyway, with her supposed eagle eye, she manages to find a few bottles of whiskey and vodka."

"Quit rambling and get on with the story," Maggie puffed, looking more and more sheepish as the man went on. 

"Fine. So Daisy gets all excited, grabs the haul, and starts walking back. At this point, the hole is right infront of her. Not hard to miss. But somehow, and I'm not sure if it's because you were so _excited_ , or because you're a complete _dumbass_ , or _what_ , but somehow she misses it. The look on this woman's face, this goofy fucking grin, right before she steps right into nothing and smashes her face on the edge of this gap was the stupidest thing I've seen out in the wasteland." 

By now, the group had resumed their laughing, helped along by the tight-lipped expression on Maggie's face as she fought to retain her pride, ears turning pink from embarrassment, and despite the look she shot him Nick couldn't help but chuckle along at the absurdity. 

He cleared his throat after she gave him a light shove, again moving away to recreate the empty space between them that he seemed to keep stepping into.

"That explains the bump on the noggin, but what about your hands?" He questioned, and Maggie sucked in a deep breath before anyone else could finish the story. 

"This asshole was so busy laughing at me that he left me down there!" She exclaimed, causing the volume of the laughter to increase, "I had to clamber out of there myself! And I was nice enough to bring the booze with me!" 

"Thank you, Misses...er...what's your surname again?" Piper teased, causing Maggie to finally join in on the fun. 

\--------------- 

Eventually, the group managed to convince Maggie that the incident would be one of many out in the wastes, prompting a night of shared alcohol and stories. When the sky began to pale at the horizon, they all agreed it was probably time to call it a night, and Nick jumped at the opportunity to escort Maggie those ten steps across the road to her doorstep. 

He managed to keep the distance between them by adding a certain degree of sway to his steps, and kept his hands firmly in his pockets. She seemed to notice, and maintained her space as well with loosely crossed arms. It wasn't often they were alone together, and when they were, they were on the job. It felt oddly serene catching eachother at a moment where the rest of the community didn't have their divided attention, and there wasn't anything around that he knew of on the prowl. 

Even with the newfound awkwardness, the two walked slowly, hanging on for the other to speak their mind first. It was a practice they'd established, unexpectedly pouring their hearts out to eachother at random intervals. He'd definitely said a lot more than she had, though; infact, he barely had any idea of what she was like before the war. 

With the two of them making their slow approach toward her old home, it seemed like a good time to ask.   
"What was your life like before you went down into that frozen tin can?" He asked, sparing her a glance as she raised her eyebrows. 

Maggie seemed to consider the question for a few seconds, or perhaps consider her answer. "It wasn't really anything special. To be honest, I didn't really get much of a chance to live before I came her. Went to law school, met Nate, and only put that law degree to use for two years before I fell pregnant with Shaun." 

A short sigh escaped her after mentioning her baby, a reaction she lacked when talking about her late husband.   
As much as he tried to ignore it, Nick never really liked hearing about the guy; it irked him to think the house they headed for wasn't just hers, but his too. It was a thought that nagged at Nick every now and again when he stayed in Sanctuary, sitting up in her living room knowing that before Dogmeat had taken that spot beside her in that bed to guard the woman from the world while she slept, there was a man, the father of her kid in that same spot. 

 

He strove to respect the dead, however. Envy was not an appealing trait to have. 

"Nate was never really around much, but Codsworth was great. He was more helpful than anyone," She broke the phrase with a chuckle, "He freaked out when I went into labour, but he stuck with me through the whole thing. Nate arrived just after Shaun was born." 

"Sounds to me like you do better with mechanical men," He noted with an amused expression, "I'm uh, sorry you didn't get much of a chance to live your own life before you started out here." 

The little nudge she gave him after the first comment followed by a mutter of, "You're such a flirt that I might be inclined to agree. Irma might have herself a bit of competition." 

After managing to get a laugh out of him, she went on, uncrossing her arms as they both arrived at her door and leaned against the doorframe. 

"It's odd, you know, but coming into this world with a total disaster and even finding it in a similar state, selfishly enough I've actually started to feel like I'm living my own life. It's obviously not perfect; Deathclaws exist, but it's mine, and I have the ability to control what I do with it." 

Nick couldn't help but admire her for that. In a way, he felt like it mirrored the loss of control he felt about his own identity as a synthetic man with the memories of a man from Maggie's time. He wondered what they would have been, had they known eachother then. 

"The Commonwealth builds character," He shrugged, rubbing at the base of his neck, where the skin had worn away, "You still got a lot more ditches to fall into." 

She shot him a grin, pushing herself off the doorframe to swat his hand away to prevent any further damage. "You know we're going to need to get you fixed up if you wanna keep hanging around with me." 

He returned the expression, stilling at their close proximity, only standing about a foot apart. The human aspect of him (if it could be called that) applauded the idea of closing that gap, of pulling her closer, but he was a synthetic man, a piece of metal garbage, and above that, he was a professional. He'd always been able to keep a clear head, and despite the demands it was throwing at him, he would persevere. 

"What, so you can ditch all your other pals?" Nick retorted with a click of his tongue, "Maggie, as much as I'd love to be selfish, you've got yourself another dozen people who adore you. Speaking of which, where's Dogmeat?" He had to praise himself for noticing that, getting the justification he needed to break eye contact and look around at the empty street. 

Maggie answered with a breath of laughter, placing a bandaged hand on her hip, "He's uh, he's taken a liking to Hancock lately. Must think he's a big piece of walking jerky." She paused then, quickly letting her hand fall again as she watched him, forcing his gaze to meet hers again.  
"Look, I wanted to thank you, Nick. You're really such a sweet man, you know that?" 

He could feel his skin (or the metal beneath it) heating up at her words, circuits running on overdrive to keep up with everything that was running through his head. Even so, he found himself without a proper answer, completely unable to retort. All he could do was return his hand to its former place at his neck.

"Aw, hell, Maggie..." He trailed, bringing his gaze to the ground. Her boots stepped closer, and he felt the gauze on her palm as she reached to remove his hand again. 

 

Looking up, he was stunned by how close she was, unable to do or say or think as she pressed her lips to his cheek, just where teeth met cheekbone beneath his faux skin.   
She seemed fairly pleased with herself at his reaction, leaning back a little to examine his expression. The smug look on her face brought him back down, and he was able to furrow his brow. 

"Maggie," He began in a low, stern tone, but he was never able to finish his warning against her action. Catching her spare a quick glance down to his mouth, his mind went blank again save for that nagging at the back of his head, louder than ever, and he felt himself inclinining his head when her bandaged hand fell to his shoulder. That valued perseverance left him then.

It was polite of her, Nick would later think, that while she brought her mouth closer to his, she paused to allow him to close the gap between them. He was cautious after a moment, both of them refusing to close their eyes as he trailed his lips over hers, barely touching, testing the waters.

The heat in him built up as she rose her other hand to his neck, and he leaned into her, closing his eyes as her kissed her. A small hum sounding from the woman meant that he had to try, and ultimately failed not to mimic the noise, clumsily pushing her back to the doorframe in his attempt to get closer, pressing his hands to the small of her back to achieve this.

It felt like she broke away from him much too soon, or it could have been that his clouded mind hadn't paid attention to any time that could have passed. The struggle she seemed to be having breaking off so abruptly told him that it was probably the former. 

He was in such a daze when she spoke that it took him a few seconds to register what she'd actually said. 

"Stay here tonight." 

He couldn't help but chuckle. 

"Yes ma'am."

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first bit of writing I've done in years, but the opportunity was too good to pass up.  
> Thank you to all who have read, and I might put some more stuff up here at some point.


End file.
